


Say Something

by Lollipopgang71



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dark Past, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lollipopgang71/pseuds/Lollipopgang71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being exiled for 4 minutes, Sherlock goes to visit Molly and finds she's not at work. Now where exactly would a pathologist go if not her morgue? That remains to be seen. Sherlolly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something

**Author's Note:**

> I remembered in 'His Last Vow' John asked if everyone he knew was a psychopath and Sherlock ran through everyone in his head and said yes...that also meant Molly. What would cause someone to become a psychopath? Why a dark past is a very good start :) This was heavily inspired by 'Demons' by Imagine Dragons...I'm actually thinking about making a song-fic based on that song. 
> 
> Anyways I apologize if it's OOC. I tried to keep it as much in character as possible.

Cold blue crystal eyes bore into amber ones.

 

A standoff of sorts, a staring contest; given the new information just received. It would appear to the naked eye that one party was waiting for the other to give a different answer...the air thick with apprehension and confusion. They blinked for a few moments before Clara, the hospital's receptionist sighed as she looked down. Game over.

 

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes but she's not here today, I told you three times already." She fiddled with her pens, anything to avoid eye contact with the intense detective

 

"Molly never calls off."

 

"Very true but she did this morning. I'm sorry."

 

"Why would she call off?" his face scrunched up in confusion and slight tinges of anger creeping into his eyes. He hated not knowing.

 

"She didn't say, nor if she did would I be able to tell you. Look if you could possibly come back tomorr--"

 

"But I need her help with some samples  _now_..."

 

"I don't know what else to tell you sir..."

 

Before she could finish the end of her apology, he was off. Dozens of questions flooding his mind at once and the more that surfaced, the more frustrated he became. Where was she? Was she okay? Why hadn't she called him? Oh. He would know the answer to that last one...he hadn't quite gotten a chance to tell her that his original plans of being banished went out the window and he was seemingly forgiven for the time being. Shaking his head at his own stupidity he hailed a taxi and got in.

 

"Where too sir?"

 

"22 Eden St. please." the cabbie nodded in acknowledgement and began the 20 minute drive towards Molly's house.

 

Gazing out the window, thoughts of Moriarty's words to him in their second encounter slowly came back to him; _'I will burn the heart right out of you.'_ If he really was back from the grave...then he would have known of his words to Molly and the end of the staircase that evening almost a year ago. Words pertaining to his 'slip up', how she helped him, how she was the one who mattered most to him--everything. She was in danger all because of his human error. His jaw clenched at the thought and before he could go into an internal descend into his mind palace for solutions a familiar figure caught his eye.

 

Molly.

 

She was dressed in more layers than normal and carrying a bouquet of roses with a faraway look in her eyes. She was safe! Wait if she was okay and not physically ill, why wouldn't she be at work? A work-a-holic much like himself she was so what on earth would cause her to play hokey? His interest doubled, this was certainly unprecedented.

 

"Stop!" he half hollered at the cabbie, quickly paid him and hopped out in the middle of an intersection. He had to watch her from afar but he didn't want to loose her in the Sunday morning cluster of people.

 

He followed her for a little more or less of four blocks when he realized where she was unknowingly leading him. The Cemetery. What on earth would she need to go there for? Weaving in and out of the graves until she came to a stop at a tombstone with a crying angel on a coffin. Ironic. Making sure he was in earshot he concealed himself behind a fair size mausoleum, closed his eyes and focused on her direction. He could hear she was shifting on the frozen grass, kneeling probably judging by the impact and the frequency of fidgeting and placing her bouquet in front of the tombstone.

 

"Hello Mum." she started weakly. Sherlock felt like hitting his head against the stone in front of him. How could he forget, she did mention that her mother had passed away some time after Christmas.

 

"Sorry for missing last year's meeting...I had been so boggled down with work, I had to pull a 24 hour shift...I forgot...sorry again." she took a shaky breath.

 

"It's times like these Mum...that I wish I hadn't been the one to kill you." Sherlock's eyes flew open at this confession. Her a killer? No...not the gentle pathologist.

 

"Granted the doctors did tell you a cesarean would be better but you wouldn't listen...why's that Mum? Things...would have been so different." he could hear emotion creeping into her voice much like it did the night of the Christmas Party three years ago.

 

"I know you don't care because they're not your children but...Alyssa's six year anniversary is in two weeks...of course you would know that I tell you that almost every year...I can't help it you know...she was my only little sister and she just-" a small sob was heard. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut at the sound. She had a younger sister that had died as well?

 

"That's why I started an emotional out-reach group for suicidal teens...they need people...we all do...we need someone who will just listen. Thank gosh I have you Mum." she chuckled dryly.

 

"Of course you know that Timothy and Tommy overdosed three years ago...I still don't know where I went wrong there..." Sherlock's heart stopped. Timothy and Tommy...he knew them. They were bright-ish twin adolescents who were just as addicted to Opium as he was and sometimes during their ramblings they would breakdown and open up about an elder sister that always took care of them. A "angel older sis" who raised all four of them while their father went out and drunk himself stupid every night.

 

"And Toby utterly hates me...he says I hadn't been there enough for him...but I tried Mum. I tried to think of what kind of person you would have been had I actually had the chance to know you...four siblings I was entrusted with three are dead and one hates me. Still no word on dad though." she sniffled and with each sound of her despairing Sherlock could feel a bit of himself breaking off.

 

"I almost got married." now there was a humor in her tone.

 

"I almost got married to...a half-wit Mum. You know how I hate insulting one's intellect but this clot-head believed that a dagger could be made of meat...MEAT MUM." she was actually chuckling now and Sherlock had to bite his tounge over her description of Tom. So glad he wasn't the only one who saw that and this side of Molly was so rare, it was a pleasant surprise.

 

"But that's not why I ended it." she sighed after catching her breath from laughter.

 

"No...I ended it because I'm still attached. Hopelessly and at times shamelessly attached to someone who can admit I matter most to him--or so he says but then again Mum he's known for playing on women's feelings to get what he can and oh my God that sounds a whole lot worse out loud than it did in my head..." Sherlock winced at the truth coming from Molly's lips. So she had heard of Janine after all. 

 

"Thing is Mum, I don't know what to believe...he's kissed me twice-just on the cheek mind you...but I saw no deception in his eyes when we talked ten months ago...that's why I'm here Mum." He listened harder.

 

"I've lost him...he committed a **murder** and is being exiled to a suicidal mission" she was openly sobbing now.

 

"He tried not to tell me, he was kind and tried to spare the ugly details but Mum sometimes I can see right through him...he's going to die, for real this time--after he had gotten shot! Here in London...I at least have a slight chance of being of help to him...I can't help him when he's over in Russia Mum...I can't get to him....I can't get to-" she was coughing in the middle of her lament and Sherlock wondered if his organs were still properly working with how erratic his heart was pounding. This was something he was not used too, she was so strong in front of him but out of sight she was fragile as could be.

 

"Now Moriarty's back...and Mum I know in the depths of my heart I'm going to be a target. I'm not scared of death, for God's sake I deal with it on a daily basis. I do not fear death...I just regret it's coming. You see Mum...I am going to die and I didn't tell him..." she stopped to settle down her breathing again.

 

"Didn't tell him what?"  She gasped and tripped up to her feet. He couldn't stand it anymore. Her pain was painful and he had heard enough information and scenarios of her past to last him a lifetime.

 

He took in her appearance; red rosy cheeks from both cold and emotions, bloodshot eyes with some broken capillaries around the edges, a true sign of her intense crying spell, hair was out of the ponytail and cascaded to the front her shoulders framing her face whether it was from the shock or her previous emotions she now had a case of hiccups. Despite himself Sherlock couldn't help but think she was what most would call adorable. Beautiful and adorable.

 

"S-Sherlock...what? I thought you were-"

 

"Exiled. Yes...so did I. Until four minutes into my flight I got a most peculiar call from Mycroft saying that England was in need of me?" he quirked an eyebrow up in inquiry but let it melt to a fond smile when she nodded numbly.

 

"Not just England." before she could stop herself she fell into him and held onto him. Unaware that she was embracing the most physically awkward human being there will ever be on earth, but it did not matter. Her high functioning Sociopath was here in front of her, alive, in one peace. Ready to tackle another case.

 

It was then she felt two arms come to encircle her and hug her back and she just unraveled, even more so than what she was just doing. Anger, relief, confusion and happiness hit her all at once. She felt a pair of lips plant light kisses on the top of her head until she felt them come to rest on her ear

 

"You, Molly Hooper are so keen. You not only knew the nature of my trip but rather where I was going. Do not worry, you will not die...I will personally make sure of that. You are safe now, I promise." it was so gravely and full of promise that she couldn't help herself from chuckling, the shock still weighing on her.

 

"Now...what is all this commotion about you not being able to tell me something? Why Molly that is unlike you to withhold information." he tried not to let the smug and knowing smirk through. He wasn't as thick as what people believed him to be...ever since he had to fake his death. He knew Molly's feelings but like any "ordinary" man, it still was nice to hear aloud.

 

"You're the genius, why don't you _deduce_ the situation and come up with your own probability." He chuckled at the sarcasm that laced her tone.

 

Kissing her on her forehead he whispered

 

"Perhaps I already have."


End file.
